Thursday, March 8, 2018

The Madonna crossed with Wonder Woman: how the media portray Jacinda Ardern

(First published in The
Dominion Post, February 23.)

Living in a country as small and intimate as New Zealand can
sometimes feel like being wrapped in a cuddly warm blanket. These occasions
arise whenever the nation is enveloped in a state of feel-goodism and
self-congratulation.

It happened when we won the America’s Cup and it happened
when Lorde swept the world pop charts. On such occasions it can seem
unpatriotic not to share the general mood of elation.

It happened too when the Labour government took a stand
against nuclear weapons in the 1980s and prime minister David Lange faced down
American critics in a celebrated Oxford Union debate. Even New Zealanders who
were uncomfortable with the government’s stance took pride in Lange’s famous
killer line (actually pinched from an Australian cartoon, according to Sir
Gerald Hensley) that he could smell the uranium on his opponent’s breath.

At times like this there can be a certain amount of subtle
pressure not to deviate from the national script, which demands that all New Zealanders’
hearts should swell with pride.

This phenomenon no doubt affects many countries, but it’s
magnified in our case because of our isolation and diminutive size. It’s plucky
little New Zealand standing up and demanding to be noticed. Whether the rest of
the world pays attention or not seems almost immaterial. We do it mainly for
our own sense of well-being.

Not falling into line with the national consensus on such
occasions is seen as letting the side down. Nothing must be allowed to dampen
the mood.

Right now feels like one of those times. If the media are to
be taken as an accurate barometer of the national psyche, the country has been
in a state of almost preternatural contentment since last year’s election.

Not only do we have a young, likeable, left-of-centre female
prime minister, but she’s going to have a baby while in office. Even hard-nosed
and normally sensible Wellington press gallery veterans almost swooned with
delirium at the announcement of Jacinda Ardern’s pregnancy. What could be more 21st
century than giving birth and then going back to work after six weeks, leaving
the baby in the care of her partner?

In the outpouring of gushing media comment, there was much
puffing of chests at the idea that New Zealand, the first country to give women
the vote, was again showing the world how things could and should be done.

Journalists promptly coined a term for this phenomenon:
Jacindamania. They seem to see no irony in the fact that they delight in using
the word even when they exhibit symptoms of the affliction themselves.

Some of the most cringe-inducing journalism was prompted by
Ardern’s attendance at Waitangi, where her hosts invited her to have the baby’s
placenta buried in line with Maori custom. Political reporters cooed their
approval.

Much was made too of the fact that she pitched in and helped
cooked the steak and sausages on the barbie. This simple but effective PR ploy
– the prime minister presenting herself as an ordinary, unpretentious Kiwi,
which she genuinely appears to be – was applauded as if it were a latter-day
miracle of the loaves and fishes.

But it’s hardly surprising that journalists are attracted to
Ardern. She’s of the same generation as most people working at the front line
of the media, and the same sex as a large proportion of them. It’s fair to say
that her political views probably mirror those of many, if not most, New
Zealand journalists.

Besides, journalism thrives on newness and novelty, and
Ardern represents what many journalists see as an exhilarating and overdue generational
change in the Beehive.

For nine years we were governed by middle-aged men in
suits.Ardern is still in her 30s. She’s
fresh, personable and seems effortlessly in control of things. To use a silly
popular expression, what’s not to like?

Her pregnancy is the icing on this cake, although it raises
questions that have been delicately sidestepped by the media. What if she
experiences complications, or struggles with the combined demands of motherhood
and the prime ministership? No one discusses these possibilities because they
conflict with the presumption that women can do anything.

Of course the prime minister can’t be blamed if the media
portray her as a cross between the Madonna and Wonder Woman. But it may make
the eventual reality-check more painful when the long media honeymoon ends, as
it eventually must, and the strains of office start to tell on her untested
government with its incongruous assortment of political bedfellows.

About Me

I am a freelance journalist and columnist living in the Wairarapa region of New Zealand. In the presence of Greenies I like to boast that I walk to work each day - I've paced it out and it's about 15 metres. I write about all sorts of stuff: politics, the media, music, wine, films, cycling and anything else that piques my interest - even sport, though I admit I don't have the intuitive understanding of sport that most New Zealand males absorb as if by osmosis. I'm a former musician (bass and guitar) with a lifelong love of music that led me to write my book 'A Road Tour of American Song Titles: From Mendocino to Memphis', published by Bateman NZ in July 2016. I've been in journalism for more than 40 years and like many journalists I know a little bit about a lot of things and probably not enough about anything. I have never won any journalism awards.